I can’t be the only one with the voices, right? I mean, I’m not saying they’re telling me horrible things to do – like drink a case of beer or smoke a cigar while standing on my balcony in the nude on a rainy day like today – but just giving me pause. Sometimes they’ll give me direction. Other times they’ll just annoy the hell out of me for something I did wrong.

I’ve heard people give these voices varying descriptions besides the voice of God. Such as:

intuition – this is knowing you shouldn’t be out at 3 am ordering a cheeseburger from Jimmy’s and pulling out a stack of fit’ties to pay the tab,

the Devil – yeah, he might have a stranglehold on your thoughts but I’m sure he didn’t actually commit the crime…although, that Omen movie might be real ,

your sub-conscious – this is like that experience from the DiCaprio movie Inception except you know it’s not real but it feels real and you actually think it’s real (is this even real??),

your Ex – okay, not everyone compares the voices to an Ex but you somehow still feel the nagging sound effects of the arguments you once had,

your mother – not sure if this is an actual experience or more of a commentator role…but to each his or her own,

These are just a few versions of the voices in my head (and others according to today’s modern therapist). You might have other owners for your voices and that’s okay. Just own them for yourself, and don’t let them lead you astray. And be thankful that you can talk about the voices because 2000 years ago you would have been stoned for bringing this subject to light. Alas, I feel brave enough to have tackled the hard and controversial subjects affecting our society.

In the meantime, try attaching a narrator with a pleasant or appropriate sound to your voices. There are plenty of them out there (Morgan, James Earl Jones, Samuel L Jackson – hm, I sense a trend in my voice narration selection…) that will fit the bill. Because, if you gotta listen to the K-FUC radio in your head it might as well be soothing (until you figure out how to turn it off).

Man, I was a brother down on his luck with love. Shit was horrendous. I couldn’t maintain a relationship to save my soul. If there was a time to SMDH this was it. Fucking women. Fucking life. I swear, I was hating it all as the story goes.

And then she showed up.

It should have been a bad time to meet because my mood sucked and I felt I would bring her down. I was feeling funky and unlucky and didn’t give any fawks! But there I was waiting for this imagined goddess who would turn out to be connected to me like my angel twin – literally sent from the heavens to intersect with my life when it most counted. And trust me, she did.

My kids had been giving me the flux all day before they were to go back to their mama’s home. I, being the decent fellow I have always been, didn’t mind “watching” their assess from time-to-time so she could take care of her shit, but this time I wasn’t having it. My plans appeared to be thwarted for the night as this wrinkle was presented to me by the Ex. My first inclination was to tell her to screw off; but I didn’t. Thus, I was doing my daddy duties when I said “yes.” Needless to say she was a tad late in picking them up. I wanted to curse her ass out but I thought, “what about the kids?”

Then my piece-of-shit-car didn’t want to start in these frigid temps. I tell myself day after day I’m moving from this cesspool of a city – the cold, the crime, the cops – the triple C’s of destruction. But I can never pull the trigger because my heart is bigger than my brain. I persevere as I need to but not without proper bitching.

After a fellow citizen decided to act like Mother Teresa I got rolling. I figured a good meeting place for my online match was somewhere warm yet accessible and safe for all. I’m not a fricking Dexterbut no telling these days of the women a man might meet. I saw the movie I married an Ax Murderer so I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, I had a couple of extra dollars because a brother just got paid! I gotta take advantage of these moments because they seem less and less frequent these days. Shit sucks.

I sat at a quaint table near the bar that faced the door. I realized I wasn’t being very chivalrous during this courting period but it was cold as Hell! I threw out the dating etiquette book and ordered myself a Scotch on the rocks to calm my nerves. I eyed the other patrons around me to familiarize myself with my environment in case a MF’er decided to go postal in the joint. But it was all good. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more – after a few more Scotch on the rocks.

I swear by the time she walked into the place I was just getting up to put on my coat and leave. I was angry that she would have the audacity to treat me like this; we spoke a few times prior and the conversation was good so why would she be so disrespectful? She approached me as I stood there eyeing her up and down. I admitted to myself she was fine as anything my eyes have seen although I was still upset about her seemingly lackadaisical approach to this date.

But then it happened – she spoke to me.

Each word that came forth from her luscious lips was carried by the most beautiful songbird I imagined. My heart melted as she neutralized my anger and she proceeded to gently blot it up with her metaphors and loving innuendos.

Within the first five minutes of our new relationship I muttered the words I think I love you.

I remember the exact moment when our eyes first gazed. I had beautiful thoughts of you run through my mind as my mind imagined “us.” I envisioned you and me in a foreign land laughing, talking, and foreseeing the future as one. I felt your presence in my spirit as our brief encounter seemed like an eternity. However, it was only brief as I was introduced to you, but I remember the feeling well – euphoric.

As I made my acquaintance I remember the feeling of your skin as I reached for your hand. Because I am a renaissance man I chose to kiss your hand as a sign of respect as well as a chance to feel your silky smooth skin grace my lips while briefly catching the scent of your perfume for the day. What was that? Jean Paul Gaultier’s Classique? Or maybe it was your natural scent that danced around my nose and awakened me like a splash of cold water on a hot summer day.

I did not want to release your hand for I believed you would be mine. I wanted to run through the building with you in tow down to the fountains hidden behind the finely manicured greenery purposely placed to welcome in guest of the building. And I thought to myself “this is where we will have our first kiss.”

Your laugh and giggle tingled my spine as you sheepishly flirted with me while I gently released your hand. I glimpsed your bright smile and I was overcome with an emotion I had not felt before. The smile of a goddess right before my eyes. And if you had noticed, albeit a very brief nano-second, you would have seen how I lost my cool, calm, and collective demeanor all because of your smile. I nearly melted away.

We exchanged meaningless pleasantries as we both tried to contain the obvious metaphysical connection we were experiencing – hoping not to expose our true feelings to one another. But the bystanders knew because of the energy we shared created an aura around us like a firefly at night. You and I had forgotten we were among friends as the world seemed to stop for the moment as we took in every detail of one another.

And as I walked away I knew. I just knew. That someday we would be in an embrace sharing our vows and professing our love for each other to the world. As the sun is inevitable to rise our path to love would bear just as true. We would never love another the way we fell in love that day.

But I’m good now. And I’m over you now. And I release you from my spirit.

I want to apologize up front if this post comes across a little stronger than usual. Time is short. People are dying. As a Church, we need to take a long, hard look into the mirror, and figure out real quick-like how we are representing the word, Christian.

It’s not our job to change people. Let’s start with that.

We sow seeds. Sometimes, we get the amazing opportunity to water those seeds. God brings the increase. God, through the transforming work of the Holy Spirit, brings conviction into people’s hearts. He brings change.

We’ve got to stop thinking everyone is wrong if they don’t believe exactly as we do. To put it quite simply…that doesn’t matter at all.

We need to stop debating with atheists, agnostics, and Mormons. We need to stop boycotting every single business that supports gay marriage. We need to stop pointing out everyone’s faults.

She Said

I doubt there are many men or women who expect to be single after 40. When you reach 40, you think you’ve finally “grown up.” So what do you do when you find yourself over 40 and single?

The article, “5 Types of Guys You’re Stuck Dating After 40,” does a good job of summing up rather nicely my recent dating experience. When you’re over 40 there are basically five types of guys out there. It’s your job to find the gem among the lemons:

Mr. Set-In-His Ways. “This is the 40-something guy who is totally adjusted to living alone.” Sure, you want someone who is independent, financially secure, and can take care of themselves, but watch out for the ones that don’t allow room for another person in their lives besides their male friends who are also usually single. He likes his home exactly the way…